


I can keep a secret

by MamaSpaceDust



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Child Abuse, Drug Addiction, Dysfunctional Family, Ghosts, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Torture, Klaus needs a hug, M/M, Not much Comfort though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-22
Updated: 2019-02-22
Packaged: 2019-11-02 01:29:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17878502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MamaSpaceDust/pseuds/MamaSpaceDust
Summary: Klaus may act the part of the drugged-up fool, and most of it is even true at this point, but he didn't turn out that way by chance.You can only push something down for so long before you can't hold it any longer.





	I can keep a secret

**Author's Note:**

> So, I noticed that the rest of the academy kids seemed to either dismiss Klaus's powers or just ignore them completely (and that they never seemed to put together that staying high helped keep away the ghosts), so I'm going with the assumption that they never knew the full extent of his powers because he didn't want them to, rather than that they purposefully ignored his problems.   
> Also, I set out to just write an alternative take on the scene where Diego ties Klaus up, but it kind of got out of hand because I needed to vent about his spooky man. Sorry.
> 
> This is kind of ramble-y, so I apologise if it's a bit hard to follow at some points, but I figured the inside of Klaus's head probably isn't the clearest thing in the world so I'm sticking with it. 
> 
> Enjoy!

Klaus was taught how to keep a secret at a young age, although it wasn't a lesson learnt through choice. After what felt had like days locked in that damn mausoleum Klaus learnt his lesson.

Never admit when you're struggling. Keep it to yourself because if anyone knew they'd use it as an excuse to keep hurting you.

In fact, if at all possible, he needed to hide everything about his powers at all times, push it far behind a shield of bravado until everyone all but forgot he could speak to the dead at all.

Of course, when his father came to check on him again, all he saw was a boy who no longer struggled to control his powers. Little did the old bastard know that the voices were still screaming all around him, almost drowning him out as he allowed Klaus out of the stifling darkness he'd been trapped in. It was evening, stars were twinkling above him and all he could see was a woman with a caved in skull, screaming for help he had no idea how to give as she watched him over his father's shoulder.

But he pushed it down, and if his dad noticed the minute trembling of his hands he didn't say anything. Apparently he had done enough to pass whatever test this had been and he was ushered up to his room to get ready for bed. He didn't ask about dinner, he didn't have an appetite anyway.

A part of him hoped he would run into one of his siblings on the way to his room, knew he must look like hell and whoever found him would at least ask him what was wrong so he could shift some of the weight that was pushing down on his chest.

A part of him dreaded it; he didn't think he could keep his secret if one of them asked so soon after the mausoleum.

It was irrelevant either way, he didn't see anyone in the hallways, everyone else probably having turned in for the night already. As he went to close his door behind him he paused, eyes widening when he caught sight of the room beyond, walls tightening around him and the darkness near unbearable.

With a shudder he left his door cracked open, warm light flooding through the gap to illuminate the path to his window. He staggered over, dodging around a spirit he refused to look at before he flung his window open, gasping in the fresh air, savouring the openness of the sky above him for just a moment. He couldn't take too long though, someone would be up to check on him soon, he needed to get ready for bed.

He went about his usual routine, changing with his eyes closed so he didn't accidentally catch sight of something he didn't want to see, ducking awkwardly around bodies so he didn't even have to contemplate touching anyone as he left the room to brush his teeth. He was just trying to figure out whether he could make it across his messy room without opening his eyes when a noise from behind him caught his attention.

Mom was watching him, her usual vacant smile in place on her perfectly made-up lips as she reached out to brush a strand of hair behind his ear. "You did well today, Klaus. Your father is very proud of you."

Klaus wanted to scream, he wanted her to know that nothing he had done was worthy of praise, and even if it was he wouldn't want it from the man who had put him through that bullshit. But it was Mom, and she had done nothing wrong, so instead he just smiled weakly before mumbling a quiet "Thanks, Mom."

"You had better get to sleep, Klaus. Breakfast is at the same time as always and your father will not be happy if you're late." She had propped her hands on her hips but her face was still set in the same immovable smile as she ushered him towards his room. Before he knew what was happening he was tucked into bed, what he could almost convince himself was a compassionate hand brushed through his hair, and then he was left in darkness, the door clicking shut behind her.

Klaus counted to one hundred before he scrambled from his bed, eyes squeezed shut, and fumbled for the door handle. It was only when it clicked open under his hands that he managed to draw in a breath, staggering back to his bed and burrowing under his sheets with a whimper. If he blocked his ears and kept his eyes shut he could almost convince himself they weren't there.

He didn't know how long he stayed awake, shaking with muffled sobs as everything he'd been pushing away crashed down around him. But it was okay, as long as nobody else saw he would be okay.

It would be hard, the others were observant and their dad was always watching them for any sign of weakness he needed to train out of them, but he could do this because he had no choice. None of his siblings struggled with their powers like this so he couldn't either.

He'd keep this secret, he'd hide the twitches and the fear, because that's what was needed of him. A hero couldn't be afraid of their powers, and that's what he was going to be, a hero.

\-------------------

A lot had happened since the mausoleum. Five had disappeared, Ben had died (and eventually reappeared, although Klaus had elected to keep that to himself), and after that everyone else had just sort of left. Well, everyone but Luther of course, although he was so far under Daddy's thumb that Klaus sometimes wandered if he'd ever actually had a thought of his own in his life.

But then, of course, life hadn't been content to just let him live it. He was alright with his lifestyle, at the very least it kept away the worst of the ghosts. He only broke from his routine of constant drugs and alcohol when he was forced to by either concerned and insistent healthcare professionals, or an annoying and insistent Ben. He didn't hate his stints in rehab, but they were useless, considering he needed the drugs to function as even a semi-sane human being.

But anyway, life screwed him again, or he supposed death, technically.

Well whoever had screwed him, it hadn't been enjoyable and he wouldn't be coming back for a repeat performance, because now his dad was dead and the so-called band was back together. And he did mean the whole band, because Five had fallen out of a black hole in the sky and Ben was still ghosting around wherever Klaus went.

Their lives were fucking weird.

So as he presumed things like this went with all families, there was shouting, and arguing, and accusations of murder. He thought Luther might have thrown Diego, but that could have just been the drugs talking. He also thought Luther might have thrown him, but again, drugs, so really who even knew anymore.

Things just spiralled from there, because apparently there was a break-in, and then he was in the trunk of someone's car. It wasn't his finest moment, but then again, it wasn't his worst either, so he would take his wins where he could get them. He spent most of the time focusing on how the walls were definitely not closing in around him, that the damn trunk was definitely not going to crush him in a screaming mess of metal and guts.

Definitely not.

Then it was all masks and punches and tasers and piano wire and that damn closet, the damn closet with the walls caving in and Ben trying his best to comfort him but Klaus could barely hear him over the screams, over the flickering lights, the grey stone walls, the seconds, minutes, hours that passed before his father would let him out.

And then they were back, waiting. And the voices were there, but quieter, manageable when he could focus on one at a time. So he used it. Until someone came to save him, or he saved himself.

In the end it wasn't any of his family who saved him, it was a wonderful, beautiful, angel of a woman with a gun and a badge.

And then he was gone. Oversized briefcase in hand as he shook in his bus seat. But he'd be okay, he had to be, he could pull himself together.

He opened the briefcase.

And then he was _gone_.

\-------------------

When he popped back into 2019, disoriented and shaking, the screams of the dead were muted as though they were reaching him from the other side of a thick wall. Even if they could reach him nothing they did to him could compare to the dragging, hungry void left inside him where Dave had once been, begging to be filled with drugs and alcohol and violence.

When he found himself back with his family he did what he always did best; he kept his secrets tucked away from everyone in that special corner of his mind where they'd been safe for years.

Or he did, until Five figured it out, or at least part of it. And for a moment Klaus actually considered telling the old bastard everything, just letting all the bullshit out on the one person who could maybe understand everything he'd been through in the last ten months. Who could understand feeling so isolated from everything he knew.

But then he remembered who he was talking to. If he was being honest there was at least a fifty percent chance the old coot would just berate him for being a moron and not coming back sooner. He didn't know if he could deal with that, especially with the memories so recent and raw in his mind.

So he did his best to play his part, gave enough to get Five off his back and made his escape, the sweet embrace of booze welcoming him like an old friend. It wouldn't keep the ghosts away on its own, but between that and the numbness in his soul he could almost pretend they weren't there.

He didn't predict Diego though. He always forgot how damn observant his brother was, although he supposed that if he caught one of his siblings crying over the photo of someone he assumed was a stranger in a veteran's bar he'd probably have a few questions too. He was such a damn idiot, he'd let things slip and now he'd have Diego on his back about this until he figured out a way to appease the other man.

Things got interesting for a while. There were shootouts and ice cream trucks and then Five was gone but Diego was still giving him that damn look that let him know they weren't done talking yet. But for some reason Klaus still went to him for help, and maybe he should have thought more deeply about why the person he decided to go to was also the only one who would know to ask just the right questions, but everything hurt so he just followed his gut.

That was how he found himself being tied up by Diego, tremors wracking through him in synchronisation with the urges, the cravings, that called to him to numb everything completely, to let it all fall away. And still Diego watched him, dozens of questions just waiting for a chance to be asked as he wrapped another loop around Klaus.

"What?" Klaus knew he sounded worn down, he felt fucking worn down, but he still quirked an eyebrow in Diego's direction, some part of his fractured mask still in place. "I know you've got questions, so ask them."

Diego stepped back for a second, taking him in with a sceptical look. "Why now? The world's ending in three days and you choose _now_ to get clean? I'd've thought you'd prefer to just ignore that the whole thing was happening."

"Well, I suppose that's fair, and usually I would," He waggled his finger from where it was pressed against the arm of the chair, "But there's someone I need to see again, and if this is my last chance I'm not going to blow it on a couple more days of being high."

"This person you need to see, they're the one you lost?" Diego had tied off the rope, perching on a nearby chair with his brow furrowed curiously.

Klaus nodded, eyes slipping shut as memories of Dave flooded his mind, "Yeah. I'd say I owe it to him or something else poetic, but really I'm just being selfish again. I need to know that he's okay, wherever he is now."

"He must be pretty special." Klaus hears Diego sigh, a shuffling sound he thinks might be him settling further into his seat. "What was his name?"

Klaus knows what this is, although he hasn't been offered it in years; and olive branch, a chance to speak, to let everything out, and he almost gasps at the feeling of relief that washes through him. When he finally speaks it's the closest to prayer he thinks he's ever come, a benediction he feels shake through his body, "Dave. His name was Dave."

"Well, Dave's pretty lucky to have someone care about him so much they'd go through this just to see him again."

"No, I was the lucky one." Klaus let his head fall back, if he opened his eyes he'd be staring at the ceiling but instead all he could see was Dave's smiling face. "He was so bright, so damn bright sometimes it hurt just to look at him, like the sun. Shining and warm and constant and good, so _fucking_ good, Diego. Like no one I've ever met before. He dragged me back into the light when all I saw was darkness and death and screams, oh my god, the _screams_." He gasped, tears slipping down his cheeks, dropping from his chin like a welcome Spring shower.

"He saw me like no one else ever did, when he was there it all fell away and I could just be me again. And he liked me, he loved me, just as I was. Scars and all." Klaus dropped his chin, eyes burning as he forced them open to settle on a shaken-looking Diego. "And then that damn place took him, it took him like it takes everything else. He should never have been there, amongst the mud and the bullets and the damn screams, he wasn't meant for destruction but he was dragged down into the shit and it _kept_ him."

He could barely speak, words coming out in staggering gasps as he watched his brother piece things together, eyes locked on Klaus.

And then suddenly, between one blink and the next, Diego was right in front of him, kneeling with his hands wrapped tightly around Klaus's wrists and he swore it was the only thing keeping him from shaking apart, that anchor.

"Klaus, what- what happened?" There was a frantic look in the other man's eyes, things not fitting together correctly in a way that obviously made him nervous.

So Klaus told him, he told him everything. Cha-cha and Hazel, Patch (and if Diego's Breath hitches at her name, who is he to judge) and that damn briefcase. Vietnam, Dave and ghosts, so many ghosts he had thought his brain was going to burst under the pressure. The drugs that kept him sane, and the drugs that almost killed him.

The dam's broken now and there's no holding back the flood.

He tells him about Dave pulling him back, helping him get off the drugs and keeping him there.

He tells him about that last night, about blood washed away by rain and rapidly cooling skin, a horrific gaping bullet wound.

It isn't until he's finished, slumped in his chair with tears pouring down his cheeks, that he realises he told Diego about the ghosts, about why he needed the drugs in the first place.

He'd let his secret slip and he'd never felt so much relief in his life.

Diego was watching him with a terrified kind of awe, hands tight around his wrists. "Ten months?"

A beaten-down chuckle slipped from his lips "Mmhm," He grinned up at him. "Bet when we were kids you never thought me and Five would end up being the big brothers, huh?"

Diego laugh is sharp, but it's more than Klaus swears he's heard from the man in years, so perhaps that's progress? "I'm glad you're okay, Klaus."

"Yeah, wouldn't want to miss the apocalypse, right?"

Diego holds him tight, silent but there, in a way no one in this family has been since, well Klaus can't even remember. He can feel Ben, somewhere behind him, like a pressure in the back of his mind, and with two of his brothers so close he can almost kid himself into thinking they'll get through this alive somehow.

He'll see Dave again, and then they'll save the world.

His secret's out, and the world didn't end. Well, it might, but that's an unrelated problem.

Of course, none of this actually happened. Five changed the timelines, Klaus never asked Diego to tie him up, they never spoke.

Klaus kept his secret.

He's good at keeping secrets.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope it was okay, and sorry for the ending, as we all know, Klaus can't have good things so I couldn't let him be happy at the end. Let me know what you think, this is the first time I've written any of these characters so I'm not sure how they came out...
> 
> So I had a thought that maybe the reason Ben stuck around Klaus for so long is that he kept almost killing himself with drugs and alcohol etc. And he didn't want his brother to wake up dead on his own. I don't know, maybe I'll write something on that later... Would anyone be interested?


End file.
